


infinity ahead

by topazios



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 22:53:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5644798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/topazios/pseuds/topazios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loving Kihyun is hard — and living with him is harder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	infinity ahead

**Author's Note:**

> warning: domestic abuse

The thing about Hoseok and Kihyun is that no matter what they say or look like or how they act in public, they’re always fighting. It’s almost always about something stupid: someone didn’t vacuum under the rug or someone didn’t do the dishes. Sometimes it’s about nothing at all. Hoseok wakes up for three days straight to an empty apartment before he wakes up early enough to catch Kihyun before he goes back to work. 

“Let me go,” Kihyun says, through his teeth. His hands are balled into fists, but Hoseok knows that Kihyun would never punch him. “I need to go to work.” 

“It’s four in the morning,” Hoseok says. “You’re still in your pajamas and you haven’t even brushed your teeth yet.” 

Kihyun jerks his arm out of Hoseok’s hand and sighs. “What do you want?” 

“You’re _impossible_ ,” Hoseok spits, but Kihyun doesn’t even flinch. “I want to support you and your career but you make it _impossible_.” 

“Well, if you’re never home after I made it clear that I was willing to work on our relationship, I think that says something about you,” Kihyun snaps back. 

“I took this job because it pays the bills,” Hoseok says, tiredly, because they’ve had this argument a thousand times already. It never ends. “We need to pay the bills.” 

“You’re an ass for bringing that up,” Kihyun says, but he succumbs anyway, burying his face in Hoseok’s neck. “We’re not done.” 

“That’s okay,” Hoseok says, searching with his eyes closed until he finds Kihyun’s lips. 

 

+

 

They weren’t always like this. They began in college, a month after their first semester starts, because Hoseok drops a book biking to a class and Kihyun picks it up and runs halfway across campus to give it to him. They’d spend hours hiking and sitting at the top of the small mountain near campus, and Kihyun would talk about how he’d spent his entire life wanting to sing, wanting to sing so badly that he once, in middle school, went to a studio and asked if he could work to pay for vocal lessons. They said no, but Kihyun went back every single day for two months until they finally gave in, and Kihyun would dust out all the recording booths in exchange for weekly lessons. 

“It’s going to be hard,” Kihyun said. They were both lying on their backs, holding hands. “But I’m going to make it.” 

“I know,” Hoseok said. When they got back that day, he looked up high paying jobs and closed his eyes and picked one at random, and then he finally declared his major. 

They broke up once, junior year, and the entire six months they spent avoiding each other felt like a war to Hoseok. Every second, there would be something beating down on him, daring him to chicken out and run back to Kihyun. Hoseok went back to ground zero, letting as many people break his heart to see if it would build back stronger. He took up jogging to push himself to climb every step of the way without a ladder, just because he wanted to prove that he could do it himself. He went through all the equipment at the gym, and every time an injury hit him, he hit back harder. There were bruises on his shins and welts on his knuckles, but one day, he woke up to see them healed.

In the end, though, they see each other during the morning coffee rush. Kihyun came over and took Hoseok’s hand like the past six months didn’t happen, and they never argued about it again. 

Back then they thought they could live in a cardboard box if it meant that they could be in love, they wanted it that badly. Kihyun free falls his way into Hoseok’s heart, which, even after everything, still couldn’t punch him out. 

Ten years after they meet, Kihyun is a semi-successful solo artist and Hoseok is an anesthesiologist. They learn, though, that life’s more than just a cardboard box of love. 

 

+

 

One afternoon, when Hoseok comes back from work on time, for once, Kihyun grabs him and fucks him on the couch almost fully clothed, rougher than usual. Hoseok dutifully scratches up Kihyun’s back and asks about it later. 

“Your secretary called and said that some nights you just stay in your office overnight,” Kihyun says, harshly. He makes to put his shirt back on but Hoseok snatches it out of his hands and flings it across the room. 

“I didn’t cheat on you,” Hoseok says. It’s the truth. 

“I know, idiot,” Kihyun snaps. 

“What does that mean?” Hoseok challenges. 

Kihyun snorts, and when he turns around, Hoseok can see the damage he’s caused. “You don’t think I know you?” 

“You don’t fucking act like it sometimes.” 

“ _God_ ,” Kihyun yells. “Maybe it was a mistake to move in with somebody I could never love.” 

“Well I could never love you, you’re impossible.” 

Kihyun punches like he sings, it doesn’t hurt at first but a couple seconds later it feels like he’s been hit by a freight train, all the air’s been knocked out of him. Hoseok almost misses the second punch, he’s so surprised.

“I think you broke my nose,” Hoseok says, tilting his head up in an attempt to slow the bleeding. “And don’t even get me _started_ on my eye. What the _fuck_ , Kihyun.” 

“I’m leaving,” Kihyun says, picking up his shirt and pulling it on with unnecessary force. “Bye.” 

Hoseok ices his nose and eye and deduces that nothing is fatal, but his face is swollen and sore, and hurts when he tries to move anything. Later that night, after Hoseok’s marathoned a soap opera he doesn’t know the title to for four hours, Kihyun comes home with takeout from Hoseok’s favorite restaurant. 

“Here,” Kihyun says, shoving the container towards him. “Eat it.” 

“I can’t by myself, my face hurts,” Hoseok says, wincing. “Feed me?” 

He can see Kihyun’s resolve breaking. “Only because it’ll make you shut up.” 

 

+

 

Kihyun apologizes for punching Hoseok six months later, during another fight. Hoseok flings a mug at Kihyun’s head in one motion and kisses him in the next, because neither of them can remember what they were fighting about in the first place. 

 

+

 

The first time Hoseok wakes up, it’s the crack of dawn, and he feels the slight pressure of someone’s arm thrown across his stomach, fingers curled into his side, casually, intimately. The next blink, he’s back asleep, and the next time he wakes up it’s to the smell of breakfast cooking, the light clatter of pans on the stove, the water running in the sink. It’s almost seven. Kihyun’s probably been awake for half an hour already, showered and dressed. Ready. 

Hoseok goes through the motions, and when he’s done, Kihyun meets him halfway for a goodbye kiss. 

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Hoseok says, letting a little whine slip into his voice.

“You’re acting like I’m going on a month-long trip,” Kihyun says. “I’m going to work. You’re going to work.” 

“I know,” Hoseok says. “I’ll miss you.” 

“I love it when we don’t fight,” Kihyun says, and Hoseok thinks about how it’s been forever since they’re woken up not mad at each other. 

“Me too,” Hoseok says. “I promise to try harder.” 

“I know,” Kihyun says. “I do too.” 

They end up arguing over which Star Wars movie is the best later that night, but that’s the kind of argument that they end with making out on the couch, the slow, soft kind of making out that’s reserved for watching the sun rise or moonlight walks on the beach. And moments like these. 

 

+

 

“I never _said_ I was going to Germany,” Kihyun yells. He’s in the kitchen, and Hoseok’s in the living room. “I said that my _manager_ wants me to go because I’ve been invited to be an opening act.” 

“What the fuck kind of artist wants you to open for them in Germany?” Hoseok yells back, pacing around the coffee table. 

“Does it matter?” Kihyun huffs. Hoseok can hear him chopping vegetables, the knife banging against the cutting board. “I’m going to go.” 

“You just said—”

“I’m done talking about this,” Kihyun says. “I’m done. Now come taste this and tell me if it needs more salt.” 

“I bet it sucks,” Hoseok says, but he goes over and allows Kihyun to feed him a spoonful of tomato sauce. It’s delicious. “It sucks.” 

“Go to hell.” 

(Eight months later, Kihyun leaves for Germany. Hoseok doesn’t go to the airport to see him off because they’re arguing about the broken vacuum cleaner. But two weeks later, when Kihyun comes back home, Hoseok’s waiting with open arms.) 

 

+

 

“Oh, my god,” Hoseok says, horrified. “What have you done.” 

“I’m just giving you what you deserve,” Kihyun says. Three of Hoseok’s best lab coats are laid out on the coffee table, chunks of the fabric cut out with scissors. 

“I forgot about our anniversary for one hour and you commit murder?” Hoseok shrieks. 

“You _forgot about our anniversary_ ,” Kihyun emphasizes. “Do you want me to repeat that?”

“Oh, my god,” Hoseok says. “This is it. I’m leaving you.” He slams the door behind him. 

They threaten each other that they’re going to walk out on their relationship at least ten times a week, half of it teasingly, when Hoseok hugs Kihyun from the back and doesn’t let go. The other half, they’re screaming bloody murder at each other and listing out what they gave up to be together. Hoseok almost always wins this argument. 

He ends up at the nearest convenience store, and without thinking he picks up a shopping basket and starts filling it with those stupid aloe vera health drinks that Kihyun swears by whenever he’s recording new tracks. Hoseok is never allowed to touch them. 

He deserves someone nice, right?, Hoseok thinks to himself. He shouldn’t be with someone as selfish and mean and petty as Kihyun. Hoseok’s a good person. He made it through med school with only a couple bruises, he pays all the bills. He calls his parents every week. He should be with someone better for him than _Kihyun_. 

But oh, Hoseok thinks, as he’s walking down the nearest street. There was the one time last week when Kihyun had surprised him by bringing him lunch and they’d had sex in his office. That was kind of nice. And a couple days ago, Kihyun pulled him out of bed on late Saturday morning, after a screaming match that lasted until 3 a.m, when Hoseok had actually passed out. Kihyun drove down to the beach, and they’d held hands with their toes digging into the sand. Kihyun had said, _Thanks for sticking with me, I know I suck but you’re my whole world_. He looks up to see that he’s at his own front door. It flies open before Hoseok can even knock. Their silence stretches thin.

Eventually, Hoseok holds up the plastic bag of aloe vera drinks. “These are mine.” 

Kihyun cracks a smile. “I won’t touch them.” 

“Can I come in?” Hoseok asks, like he’s actually asking, _Do you still love me?_. 

Kihyun doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, either. 

“It’s hard to love you,” Hoseok says, after a minute or so of tense silence. “Sometimes I don’t think I can do it anymore.” 

“I know,” Kihyun says. “Take me back?” 


End file.
